


Lucky

by Deathtouch



Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Anal Plug, Butt Plugs, Choking, Desk Sex, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Objectification, Past Medical Experimentation, Power Dynamics, Prosthetics, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Vibrators
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-13
Updated: 2015-12-13
Packaged: 2018-05-06 10:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5414159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathtouch/pseuds/Deathtouch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>☛ in which i write rhack trash for lynx's birthday</p><p>
  <i>“Delegates from the research labs on Promethea will be arriving in a few minutes. I need you to be on your best behavior, do you understand?” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Rhys glanced sideways, eyeing Jack’s chair. He wasn’t allowed to look his owner in the eye, and he saved himself from any accidental eye contact by not even looking up. He nodded his head slightly.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lucky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gibilynx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gibilynx/gifts).



> happy birthday to the wonderful and amazing [lynx](http://gibilynx.tumblr.com/)!!! we have been playing in the garbage together for a whole year now, whether it's bolton trash or rhack trash. you are always there on twitter to fav my tweets and your art is a shining beacon in every fandom you're in! thank you for being my internette pal. i adore you so much, and i hope i did your birthday fic justice!! :) 
> 
> also thank you to my amazing beta [subwaywolf!](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SubwayWolf/pseuds/SubwayWolf) thank you for knocking this out in record time, thank you for introducing me to lynx's amazing art, thank you for showing me the light of the borderlands fandom, and thank you for beta-reading all my fanfic. you work so hard. thank you!!

Rhys was drooling. The saliva had dripped down his chin and was crawling the length of his throat towards his collarbone. It itched. He wasn’t sure what was more annoying, the ache in his jaw or the itch of the drool on his neck. His brain switched in turns, being more distracted by one than the other. Everything below his knees had gone numb, otherwise he would have been annoyed by the pain of kneeling as well. 

Jack reached over and plucked a pen from Rhys’ mouth. Rhys felt all the pens and pencils in his mouth shift. The sudden change proved surprisingly difficult to adjust to. He’d been sitting there for hours, and now all of a sudden a pen was gone. He could feel the loss of it on his tongue, and the stretch of his lips lessened a little. Just when he thought he could get used to the new sensation, Jack jammed the pen back in. Rhys gagged. 

“Quiet,” Jack scolded. He was clearly working hard.

Jack had spent hundreds of thousands of dollars on him, and this was what he was delegated to: a pencil-holder. Rhys hadn’t trained in the finest whore houses on Eden 9 and 10 to be a desk ornament. Yet here he was. 

It was hours before Jack spoke to him again. The trail of drool had managed to make it all the way down to his chest, wetting a line in his tattooed skin. Jack extracted all the pens and pencils from Rhys’ mouth, barely able to hold the lots of them in his fist. Rhys’ jaw quivered, and a pain shot through it as he tried to close his mouth. Instead he left his lips parted, jaw slack. 

“Delegates from the research labs on Promethea will be arriving in a few minutes. I need you to be on your best behavior, do you understand?” 

Rhys glanced sideways, eyeing Jack’s chair. He wasn’t allowed to look his owner in the eye, and he saved himself from any accidental eye contact by not even looking up. He nodded his head slightly. 

“I’m serious, Rhys. You can’t embarrass me again. These are Hyperion’s top scientific minds. I can’t kill these ones.” 

The last time Rhys had ‘embarrassed’ Jack was quite the ordeal. Some upper management asshole came in with a quarterly report and ended up taking an interest Rhys. Enough of an interest that he had Rhys sit in his lap for half the meeting, and then lean over Jack’s desk in order to enjoy the view. Jack allowed for a little fingering, and the guy was good with his hands. 

Rhys had come all over himself, despite being ordered not to. It wasn’t his fault really. He hadn’t been allowed to orgasm for weeks, and he was so sensitive. Jack had been red in the face at Rhys’ misbehavior. Of course he flushed the upper management guy out the airlock. God forbid anyone in the universe know that Jack’s little sex toy wasn’t thoroughly obedient. 

Rhys hoped these research lab guys wouldn’t so much as look at him. He doubted he’d be so lucky, but he could hope. By the time he’d willed his aching jaw to close, the door to Jack’s office opened and a handful of men came spilling in. 

Their shoes clicked on the metal floor, and they spoke in hushed voices. The lot of them were wearing white lab coats and almost every single one had glasses. Jack stood to greet them, putting on an absolutely obnoxious voice of faux kindness that made Rhys’ skin crawl. He knew the Hyperion CEO pretty intimately by this point, and watching him play nice was always a hard pill to swallow. If only they knew what this guy was like when he was alone. 

Jack escorted the group of scientists over towards the black leather lounge chairs in his office, inviting them to sit down. They had lots to discuss, it seemed. Most of them sat, while a few elected to stand. A rogue delegate wandered over to Jack’s trophy case to admire the items inside. Rhys tried not to look over at him, but there wasn’t much else to look at besides the floor and he’d been staring at it for the past two years of his life. 

The scientist wandered from the trophy case towards the corner of Jack’s office. He reached out to touch the metal bars of Rhys’ cage there. Butterflies twisted in Rhys’ stomach. He hated when anyone touched that cage, even Jack. It was like having someone root around in his bed. 

“This is yours?” The scientist asked in a heavily-accented voice. 

Rhys wasn’t really allowed to speak to anyone unless Jack allowed it, so he answered quietly. “Yes, sir.” 

“Very nice,” The scientist murmured. “Most are not allowed comfortable pads to sleep on, or pillows. You are a lucky slave.”

Rhys couldn’t disagree. “Yes, sir.” 

The scientist walked up the stairs to where Jack’s desk sat raised above the rest of the room. Rhys had been left there as nothing more than an ornament. He was surprised to see the scientist reaching a hand out to him. “Come join us. Biomechanical engineering will be much more tolerable with the pleasure of your company.” 

Rhys hesitated. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed… 

Jack’s voice picked up from far across the office. “It’s alright, Rhysie. Some of the others would like to meet you.” 

Rhys had been ordered to keep his arms behind his back but he took a chance and reached out, gently taking the scientists hand in his own. His shoulders ached at the sudden change in position, though nothing prepared him for suddenly being pulled onto his feet. He felt like a new born doe, struggling even to stand. He fell against the scientist as blood rushed to his sleeping extremities. 

“My apologies,” Rhys whispered and righted himself. He hoped Jack wasn’t watching. He took careful steps, navigating the stairs deliberately. He knew he was being slow. Eventually he made it over to the lounge area of Jack’s office. He realized as soon as he got close that all eyes were on him. He swallowed nervously. He was naked but for his collar and leash, but that’s not what made him nervous. It was the likelihood that someone would see should he make even a simple mistake. 

“These fine men would like to see your arm.” Jack gestured to the open space in the middle of the leather chairs.

Rhys nodded cordially to the scientist who had walked him over, and circled around one of the large chairs to go stand in the center. His feet and calves were buzzing, tingling in pain, but he ignored it and focused on being graceful instead. It was easier said than done. He knelt in front of the first man to Jack’s right, and extended his cybernetic arm. 

That was the real reason he’d been bought. Not because he gave blowjobs that could make any man weak, or because he knew how to milk a cock with his ass, or even because he could come just by being ordered to. The reason Jack had bought him was because he had a stump for an arm. Rhys spent the first six months as Handsome Jack’s sex slave strapped down to a bed in the medical wing.

They had hacked what was left of his arm away like he was a slaughtered sow at the butchers. Rhys endured surgery after surgery and an ache in his left side that persisted to this day. The prosthetic enhancement they gave him was impressive, sure, but he might have enjoyed it more had he been given the option. Or if they hadn’t taken the half of his arm he had left just to install it. 

With little more than a thought, the plating on his arm popped open to reveal gears and inner workings underneath. Rhys hated showing off the insides of this cybernetic arm. It reminded him of going to the dentist and being told to open wide. One wayward touch to those delicate and insides and he’d be in a world of pain. He knew it was what they wanted to see, though, and so he showed them. Rhys could practically feel Jack’s smiling approval over his shoulder. 

“My, my,” the delegate before him commented, scooting to the edge of the leather chair in order to get a better look. “You’re quite lucky to have something so expensive attached to you.” 

Lucky. Yeah. Lucky to have a cage with a pad in it, and lucky to be the recipient of experimental surgery. “Yes, sir,” he agreed, somehow managing not to sound sarcastic.

Rhys crawled on his knees to the next leather arm chair and showed his arm to the man sitting there too, and then the next chair, and then the next. He tried not to cringe when one of them reached out to stroke their calloused fingers over the delicate edges of the open panel on his wrist. When it was all done and he’d shown everyone, even the men standing, Rhys crawled to Jack’s feet and sat there. Jack gave him a cursory pat on the head as if to say ‘good job’. 

They talked about Rhys as if he were not there, how his arm worked and if there were better ways to improve the model. He could have told him that the rotors locked up when Jack made him sit still for more than twelve hours. He could have told them how painful it was to reach above his head or try and scratch his back. He could have told them which parts clicked and locked and what could have been made better, but they didn’t ask. He was a slave, not a person with valuable information. 

When they were finally done discussing, Jack happily showed the scientists to the door. He bid them a good night’s stay, and promised a great tour of the research and development labs tomorrow. The door closed with a hydraulic hiss, and Jack practically melted against it. He let out a low sigh, and his defenses dropped all at once. He didn’t like entertaining guests. It was high pressure and he had a hard time containing his homicidal urges. Of course he would need stress relief after a get-together like that.

“Rhys,” he snapped his fingers. “On the desk. Now.” 

Rhys stood all at once. “Yes, sir.” 

“Not ‘sir’.” Jack corrected him. “Jack.” 

Oh. Rhys stood a little straighter, and made his way to Jack’s desk. 

Jack made his way, too, shedding clothes with each step. His waist coat fell away and pooled on the floor. His fingers trembled as he worked at the buckles on his vest, but eventually he eased that from his shoulders too. He went to his belt next, and he shoved his pants away as soon as the belt was undone. He had to kick his sneakers off in a tangle of his jeans. 

Jack still had on his yellow Hyperion shirt and the white collared shirt underneath by the time he reached the stairs leading up his desk. With each stair he shed another layer. At the top of the stairs he was wearing his boxers, and a sock managed to cling to one of his feet, but that wasn’t what he was worried about taking off next. 

Rhys watched from where he was standing behind the desk as Jack hesitantly reached up to take off his mask. He swallowed so loud Rhys could actually hear it before delicately easing the mask from his face and setting it there on atop the wood. He looked away. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?” Rhys asked him, trying to find some strength in his voice. He wasn’t good at this yet. He hadn’t been trained for this. 

“Yes,” Jack admitted. He circled around the large desk to where Rhys was standing, golden chair pushed back to make room for the two of them there. 

“Wish you were me, don’t you?” Rhys asked next, reaching out to hook a finger in the waistband of Jack’s boxers. He pulled the elastic back and then let it snap against Jack’s skin. 

“Yeah.” Jack was half hard already. 

They were standing so close that skin brushed skin, and Rhys could feel Jack’s breath brush over him as he spoke. It almost felt right to lean in for a kiss at times like these, but there were still rules in play even though the dynamic had shifted. Rhys still wasn’t allowed to look Jack in the eye, much less lean in for a kiss. Instead he brought both hands to Jack’s boxers, and yanked them down his thighs. 

“It’s a shame they only cared about my arm. I bet you would have loved watching me suck them all off, imagining yourself in my place.”

Jack made a pathetic noise, and clambered on to the desk. Rhys helped him; put his hands on Jack’s waist to boost him up, and then made sure his ass cleared the edge of the wood before pushing him to lay back. Rhys pulled Jack’s boxers the rest of the way down his legs, and then tossed them away. 

“Spread’em,” he said with bossy authority which he managed to adopt as he got more practiced at being in charge. He ended up spreading Jack’s knees himself. Jack’s thick cock was standing at full mast. Nestled just underneath his heavily hanging balls was the tapered end of the black plug Rhys had helped put in this morning. He tapped it with his metal fingers, watching Jack’s body quiver. 

“You think they know you wear one of these?” Rhys asked. 

“Just-ah.” Jack arched his back. “Take it out. Fuck me.” 

“Yeah?” Rhys swallowed, and tried thinking of something clever to say. He ended up stalling awkwardly instead. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” Jack said back, rather ardently. 

Rhys swallowed. It was his nature to back down when Jack snapped at him, but he knew that wasn’t what Jack wanted him to do right now. “I have to say ‘yes, sir’ when I want something. I think maybe you ought to give it a try.” 

Jack grit his teeth and arched his back. “Rhys. Stop. Take the plug out and fuck me.” 

Rhys was caught between two different actions. He wanted to be obedient, but he also wanted to do what was right to please Jack. He really wasn’t trained for this. Jack should never have bought a sex slave if he didn’t like to top. Then again, Rhys had been bought for his lack of an arm, not for his skill as a slave. 

This game they played where Rhys was in charge was nothing short of frustrating. In that moment he wanted to go back to calling Jack ‘sir’ and being a desk ornament. As mind numbing as that was, at least he always knew what to do. 

Against his better judgement, Rhys sent a data sequence through to his arm that started it buzzing. Not just buzzing, but intermittent levels of vibration. Quick buzzes mixed with long ones, fast vibrations mixed with slow. It was something Jack had programmed for when he forced Rhys to finger himself with his cybernetic hand. In this instance, it turned the plug in Jack’s ass into a vibrator. 

“Say ‘yes, sir’,” Rhys demanded. 

Jack’s shoulder blades dug into the table and he cried out. “Yes! Yes sir!”

“Yes what?” Rhys held on to the end of the plug with determination, even as Jack’s body spasmed and his toes curled. 

“Take it out! Fuck me! Please!” Jack begged, sounding more wrecked than he had any right to.

“I don’t know,” Rhys took up that bossy little tone again. “Looks like you’re having fun as it is.” 

Jack slammed a fist down on the desk hard enough to make Rhys jump. “Rhys. Put your cock in me. Now!” 

The instinct to follow orders won out, and Rhys cut the data stream off before it finished its vibration sequence. He took a second to collect himself, and for Jack’s body to relax. After the second was up he gave the end of the plug a gentle tug, watching as Jack’s hole puckered. 

He pulled again, harder this time. Jack moaned low in his throat. Rhys could see his hole opening slowly. The black plug stuffed directly inside forced Jack wider and wider. The resistance was almost too much, and Rhys was just about to ease off and try for a third time, when suddenly the plug popped free. Jack cried out gently. 

Rhys set aside the plug and picked up the tube of lubricant they kept on hand. He quickly coated three of his metal fingers. He stuffed them into Jack’s gaping hole before it could close up completely. Jack cried out again, and Rhys could feel his insides clench against the intrusion. 

With his free hand Rhys slicked up his cock. He wasn’t quite hard yet so he closed his eyes and focused. This was definitely something he could manage. This was what they trained him for. After a few wet strokes he found himself getting stiff, and when he was hard enough that Jack wouldn’t complain he switched his fingers for the head of his cock. 

Instead of thrusting in, Rhys reached out for Jack’s hips and pulled him closer. He impaled Jack onto his cock, and then rolled his hips forward. Jack made and utterly breathless noise, fingers scrabbling against the wood of his desktop. 

“Like that?” Rhys asked. 

Jack just grunted in reply. Rhys wasted no time and started fucking into him. The thing about wearing a plug all day like Jack did, and Rhys knew this from experience, was that it could make sex a marathon. With a body that was that used to being stimulated all the time, it took some good fucking to reach an orgasm. There was absolutely no time to lose. 

Rhys had been trained to be fucked twice as long as he’d been trained to fuck, but he knew what he was doing. He guided Jack’s legs to wrap around his waist, and made smooth rolling motions with his hips. He didn’t ever stop moving, and he made sure his pace was maddeningly consistent. He wasn’t hitting Jack’s prostate just yet though. Oh no. He was saving that for the grand finale. For now it was just the delicious pleasure of being filled with a fat cock over and over and over again. 

“Wanna taste?” Rhys asked between panting breaths. 

He brandished his lube slick fingers, the three ones he’d stuffed inside Jack a few moments ago. 

Jack whined, something that sounded like ‘yes’. Rhys made sure to stare only at Jack’s collarbone, or the tuft of grey in his hair, but never his face and certainly not into his eyes. He brought his wet metal fingers to Jack’s mouth, pumping his hips as he did. Jack lifted his head, tongue licking out. He sucked the tasteless lubricant away, lathering the metal with spit. 

“Like that?” Rhys asked.

Jack whined again. 

“Bet you’ll like this even more.” Rhys hitched up one of Jack’s thighs and reached underneath. He shoved a saliva coated finger in next to his cock. It wasn’t the best feeling for him, but it sent Jack wild. He yanked Jack’s hole wider as he continued to thrust in, the same steady pace as ever. 

“Fuck,” Jack finally made a coherent noise. “I’m gonna come.” 

“Not yet,” Rhys decided, slamming in balls deep and stilling there. He extracted his finger simply because he couldn’t take the discomfort of it smashed against his cock. He felt Jack’s loose hole squeeze around the base of his dick. 

“What the fuck did you stop for?” Jack snapped, an anger rising in him that wasn’t playful. 

Rhys opened his mouth to reply “I-“

He didn’t get a chance to explain because suddenly Jack had his leash in hand. He yanked on it so damn hard Rhys thought his neck might snap. He found himself bent over, face inches from Jack’s chest. He didn’t know what was happening until it was too late, and all of a sudden Jack had the lengthy leather leash wrapped around his neck twice. He pulled, hard, choking Rhys. 

Rhys frantically reached up, fingers fighting to pull the leash away. 

“Fuck me,” Jack demanded. 

In his panic, Rhys accidentally caught Jack’s gaze. By the look in his eye, he was furious. Rhys looked away at once, tears prickling in his own eyes. He managed to squeak some air in through his closed throat before the leash pulled so tight he couldn’t stand it. He held his breath and started moving his hips again. He fumbled around at first but eventually found Jack’s prostate, nailing it with intent. 

It didn’t take long for Jack to come after that, but it took long enough that Rhys felt light headed and weak by the time jizz splattered over Jack’s stomach. He was jerking himself off, fist working in a flurry. He grunted and groaned low as he climaxed, hole clenching and tightening sporadically around Rhys’ cock. 

As soon as he was spent, Jack loosened his grip on the leash, and Rhys pulled the leather away from his throat in a panic. He coughed and stumbled back, dick sliding out, practically falling into Jack’s chair. God forbid he do that. He knew better than to sit in that chair. His cock was glistening with lube and precum, red and throbbing between his legs. 

Rhys wanted to crawl in his cage and shut the door and cradle his throat until it stopped hurting. He was used to his collar, sure, but being choked and wearing a collar were different. Sometimes Jack dressed him up in a teal shirt and choked him with a red silk tie, but that never left any marks. This wasn’t like that. Rhys could feel bruises forming. 

They weren’t finished yet, though, not until Jack said. “My cock’s still hard, Jack.” Rhys’ voice was weak and strained, and he tried to sound bossy but it ended up sounding like he was about to cry. 

Jack sat up, wiping come from his stomach with a grimace. “It’s ‘sir’, now. You don’t get to come because of that fucking stunt you pulled, stopping in the middle of fucking me. Go sit on the floor and shove some pencils down your cock-sucking throat. I’m done with you.” 

Rhys clenched his jaw. “Yes, sir,” he whispered. 

Jack was putting his mask back on as Rhys assumed his position on the floor by Jack’s desk.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading
> 
> [tumblr](http://deathtouch.tumblr.com/) | [twitter](https://twitter.com/deathtouchxx)


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